


Bitter Bites

by Residesatshamecentral



Category: SS-GB (TV), Salem's Lot (TV 1979)
Genre: Crack, Hausser is nightmarish, Himmlers' creepy occult interests, Huth is done, Vampires, archer is oblivious, attack of the Nazi vampires, attempted biting mistaken for sexual advances, author needs validation, bizzare anti-vampire tips, please comment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-01 18:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11492343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Residesatshamecentral/pseuds/Residesatshamecentral
Summary: The SS has a serious problem with Vampirism.





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Archer knew there was a definite problem was when Hausser started attempting to corner him.

It had been a strange week. Archer had mostly been occupied with overseeing the surveillance of a group of students, but he was dimly aware that a change had been going through the office. The hand that passed him a report was just a shade too pale. There was an unpleasant edge to someone’s laughter. The blinds in the meeting room were drawn more often than normal, and small, whispering groups gathered in the hallways…men, he knew, who did not habitually associate. Mostly all that registered with him was a pervasive sense of unease, not much deeper than the dull foreboding felt by any newcomer to the cold grey offices of SS intelligence.

It was near  the end of the working week. He had filed away his paperwork and shrugged into his coat, wondering if he should have a word with Huth before he went back to their rooms. Huth would certainly want to stay late – he had been distracted all week, positively nervy. Archer wondered when the man would get around to confiding in him what the matter was. He was running a list through his head of all the possibilities when Hausser materialised in the doorway just as he was about to step through it. Archer reeled back.

“Herr Archer” muttered Hausser eagerly. He tugged at Archer’s sleeve as if to steady him.

“Don’t do that please” replied Archer tersely. He generally tried to be polite to Hausser, in the way that you avoid irritating large and potentially poisonous spiders, but the little creep had become too much to bear lately. Archer thought he had probably caught something – very likely, considering what was whispered about Hausser’s habits out of office hours. His pale complexion had become a pasty white, and a faint smell hung about him that made one think of damp, unhealthy cellars, or bad water. He seemed adverse to light now – Archer had seem him flinch away from the windows, draw the blinds wherever possible. None of this would particularly bother him though – Hausser’s health issues were entirely his own business - if he would only get out of this new habit of staring at people’s throats. What that could be about Archer did not know and did not want to speculate. And now, with Hausser standing inches away from him, there was plenty of opportunity to register the bad breath.

“Did you want something?” he said, brushing Hausser’s tugging fingers away from his sleeve. He stepped back smartly, but the man followed, pacing into the room and shutting the door behind him. “If you need to take time off, I can have a word with the Standartenführer. I am sure we both noticed you are not looking terribly well lately.”

“I would report to him myself if I needed time off” said Hausser rather sharply.

“Sorry” said Archer. This was no time to get him resentful over rank. “I forgot about proper protocol. Of course you would. So what was it that you did want?”

Hausser stared for a moment as though sizing him up. “I never particularly liked you, Archer.”

Oh god. “…I am sorry to hear that, Hausser.”

Hausser waved a hand as though dismissing the obvious. “Never mind that. I never liked you, and you never liked me. Let’s get that out of the way shall we?”

“…Okay.”

“It doesn’t matter that I never liked you, when I want to offer you a wonderful opportunity.”

Dear God, what was this? Hausser leaned forward suddenly, bringing the full force of his bad breath into Archer’s face. He restrained himself from gagging. Hausser’s bloated lips parted into a wide smile, baring a long, prominent set of teeth, just inches from Archer’s face. He stepped back again reflexively and felt the wall behind him. “A wonderful opportunity” repeated Hausser. His eyes were shadowed. “Some of the fellows want to welcome you into a very special group. No-one more than me. It won’t matter that I don’t like you when you are in the group. We will have common cause then, and so-much else in common besides. Oh, I _know_ you will agree with me. You will see things just the same if we make common cause.”  His hand patted Archer’s chest, then settled and scraped and the fabric with filthy nails. His parted lips quivered inches from Archer’s neck.

Dear God, Jesus Christ and Holy Mary, thought Archer, if the little shit wanted to welcome him into the local gay scene this was the end of enough. In one smooth movement he grabbed the lapels of Hausser’s tunic and propelled him away, spinning at the same time so that Hausser ended up against the wall. “I am _so_ sorry, I have just remembered something important I need to discuss somewhere, I am going to have to rush off now, goodnight Hausser.” He fled the room at high speed, a feral growl following him as he shut the door.

Huth was just putting down the phone as he entered the office. Never, even on the night of Springer’s death, had he looked more tired. He pinched the bridge of his nose and gestured impatiently for Archer to come in. “Shut the bloody door, this is no time to let anyone eavesdrop.”

“I am sorry to bother you sir.” Perhaps it could wait. Complaining about Hausser might be a bad idea with Huth in this mood. At best, he might laugh.

“Either bother me or keep your damn mouth shut. What is it?”

“I just…I need a word about Hausser sir.”

Huth stared. “Don’t tell me you finally figured it out?”

“What sir, that he is a homosexual? No, not exactly. I mean, it is his behaviour we need to discuss sir.”

The stare was becoming unnerving. Huth broke into a sudden laugh, tigerish and utterly humourless.

“Homosexual?”

“Yes sir?”

“Not exactly.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Okay" said Archer later "what symptoms do we have to go on?”  
> It was closer to midnight. Both men had discarded their jackets and were now sipping at Huth's brand. Huth toyed with a pen, frowning at the list of suspects they had drawn up.  
> “Bloodlust…" he intoned slowly "pallor…aversion to sunlight…a general air of creepiness…”  
> “Surprised you noticed any change in Hausser, really."

"Not exactly?" said Archer.

Huth picked up a memo from the desk. He read it through once, screwed it up and threw savagely it into the wastepaper basket as though he held them both a personal grudge.

"Don't repeat what I say. You thought he made a pass at you?" He looked up from under his brows. "He got uncomfortably close and made a go for your throat did he?"

The pause between them stretched out uncomfortably. Archer ran all of the possible responses through his mind in the face of Huth's contemptuous, expectant stare. Every single one of them sounded clueless.

"I get the feeling, sir" he managed eventually "that you are saying I missed something. And that you are about to call me a fool for the fourth time this month."

"You keep count?"

"I have a good memory."

"Well you have earned that tally, Archer." Huth paused for a moment, almost nervously. He seemed to be listening for something. Rising, he went to the door and opened it swiftly. Finding nothing there he closed it, his nonchalant expression implying that of course that there was nothing paranoid about checking for lurkers outside office doors, just logical precautions.

"You fascinate me Archer" he said casually. "Top of the class in the Police Academy, unrivalled in forensic science, and you manage to delude yourself that you just escaped a homosexual come on, and not infection by a murderous vampire."

" _Vampire_?"

"Don't! Repeat! What I damn well! _Say_!" Huth gripped Archer by the shoulders and shook him with every word. Archer found him self very glad that Huth's cane was out of reach.

"Do you know the sort of week I have had? Bad enough realising that this was _real_ , was a bloody _problem_ , there was none of our superiors I could tell without being _institutionalised_!... Damn it Archer, I am your superior." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "There are my orders, then. You will bypass the tedious part of this conversation where I convince you that yes, blood-drinking revenants do exist and have infiltrated my staff. At no point will you go 'but surely sir' or 'really?' or 'but it is too incredible! If you have any problems digesting the reality of the situation you will keep them to yourself and move on. Just _go_ from _A_ to _B_. That's an order.'" He glared from sleep-reddened eyes. "And you will at no point imply that I am round the twist with solicitous questions about my health. The Russian front is cold at this time of year."

Archer stood silently for some moments. He ran a hand through his hair and met Huth's eyes levelly. Huth looked back coldly. Eventually Archer pulled out a chair and sat. Huth leaned against the edge of the desk and fiddled with a small metal desk toy.

Archer put his hands together and let out a deep breath.

"Okay" he said. "All right. Fine. But I just have one question, sir, if I may ask it."

"Go on" said Huth coldly.

"How can you tell which ones are vampires, sir?"

The other man stared back gravely for a moment. Then, to Archer's fear, his face contorted and he raised one hand to his mouth. His shoulders shook.  
It took Archer a moment to realise it, but Standartenführer Huth was sniggering.

  
...........

  
"Okay" said Archer later "what symptoms do we have to go on?”

It was closer to midnight. Both men had discarded their jackets and were now sipping at Huth's brand. Huth toyed with a pen, frowning at the list of suspects they had drawn up.

“Bloodlust…" he intoned slowly "pallor…aversion to sunlight…a general air of creepiness…”

“Surprised you noticed any change in Hausser, really."

"Perhaps I was a little unfair, I had known him a long time."

"Do you want to put Sturmbannführer Müller on the list?"

"No, he was always like that. As was Weber…and Glott…and that creepy little Unterscharführer who keeps staring at you from behind his desk…"

"I didn’t notice that, thanks for telling me. I really needed to feel more unsettled, sir."

"This is getting nowhere. We need a new approach."

"I could ask the cook to include more garlic in the food sir, we could watch closely in the Officers mess."

"Great idea Archer! What fun it will be to explain in court that garlic allergy is now just cause for extrajudicial execution!"

"All right…Okay…antipathy to the Church?"

" _That is Nazi policy!_ "

Huth stood and strode around the office. He tossed his cane in the air, caught it, and twirled it absentmindedly. Archer reflected that the man could probably hold down a job as a circus ringmaster if he ever felt like a change of career.

"All right" he said softly "I apologise. I ought to know that by now. With respect sir, we are talking around the main issue anyway."

"Meaning?"

"We cannot deal with this alone. We have to control this infection, and the only feasible way to do that is to kill or imprison the infected..."

Huth nodded thoughtfully, fingering the head of his cane.

"We need authority from Himmler."

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How did your meeting with the Reichsführer go?”  
> Huth did not answer immediately, examining his fingernails as though they were due for an inspection. “It was a difficult conversation” he said. “He may be superstitious, but like most men of that type he finds it harder to believe in the forces of darkness when they are actually on his payroll.”  
> “He didn’t believe you then?”  
> “He didn’t exactly believe me, but he is willing to let me prove my claims."

**From the personal notebook of SS-Obersturmbannführer Douglas Archer, 2 nd June 194-**

#  To do list

  * **~~Purchase small and large crucifixes~~**



_Impossible to hide under the collar of this uniform. (I wonder if the Iron Cross counts as a crucifix? Keep an eye out. Swastika presumably does not count)_

  * ~~**Locate literature on vampires**~~


  * **Find plausible excuse for hanging crucifix in office**



_I do not think they will accept the idea that Huth or I have converted to Catholicism_

  * ~~**Buy small bag of beads or rice to toss in the face of attacking vampires**~~



_Apparently they are compelled to count the grains. Problem of how to explain to non-vampire why I have thrown a small handful of rice in their face still unsolved_

  * **Determine for sure if hawthorn is to deter vampires, werewolves or fairies**



_Books still unclear on this. Ditto wild roses and wolfsbane. Any attempt to decorate the office with any of these will inevitably result in being indicted for homosexuality_

  * **Separate actual means of deterring vampires from superstition or blatant piss-take**



…

 

“It says here” said Archer “that one well-known method for losing a vampire if he is stalking you – this is if one is walking in the countryside at night – is to run backwards uphill carrying a lit candle and a tortoise.”

He looked up. Huth remained in the doorway, his expression grave, gently toying with the head of his cane.

“There is always the possibility that this was actually practised once” continued Archer “but if this is what the local peasants told folklore researchers, there is a high probability that they were taking the piss. How much of this research is pure piss-take we can’t honestly know.”

Huth considered this for a moment, then abstractedly took off his cap, threw it violently across the room and threw himself onto the sofa. The unfortunate sofa, which had borne three years of similar treatment, groaned as he settled into a brooding heap.

“No luck on finding accounts of comparable cases?” he asked.

“A few anecdotes concerning Romanian or Lithuanian peasant villages” replied Archer. “Most of them date from a century or two back. The standard practice was to get a priest and did up the grave of the village suspect. If he wasn’t there, just form a mob with some flaming torches, hunt down the vampire and cut his head off while the priest recites some scripture.”

“Sounds like standard angry mob behaviour.”

“Perhaps. How did your meeting with the Reichsführer go?”

Huth did not answer immediately, examining his fingernails as though they were due for an inspection. “It was a difficult conversation” he said. “He may be superstitious, but like most men of that type he finds it harder to believe in the forces of darkness when they are actually on his payroll. And it is prudent to be sceptical unless confronted with evidence...”

“He didn’t believe you then?”

“He didn’t exactly _believe_ me, but he didn't _disbelieve_ me and is willing to let me prove my claims. If we can produce a bona fide vampire, to be examined and confirmed by medical experts, he will accept that vampirism is a problem in the SS. Of course, if we fail to produce anything – or worse produce a non-vampire - I will at best lose my job and find myself committed for mental illness. You too, for not reporting me.”

“Well, at least that didn’t happen immediately.”

“Yes, thank God for his bizarre hobbies. I have never been so glad to work under a man who has seriously attempted to contact ghosts for political advice.”

"And tried to find the Holy Grail."

"Yes, that too. And promotes ancestor-worship..."

"It is honestly a tiny bit worrying..."

"Don't think about it too deeply. That's an order."

“Yes sir. So what happens if we convince him?”

“We arrange a programme of liquidation.”

“Openly?”

“Not quite openly. We find staff whose human credentials are beyond doubt – and that is our foremost priority, Archer, to find the means of determining and _proving_ infection – and we find a strategy to deal with this. Failure means Dachau for both of us.”

Archer considered this, running an eye over his notes. He could see, half-formed in his mind, what an anti-vampire programme would be like. The difficulties of actually initiating it, if it was supposed to be clandestine, left his mind reeling.

“Well” he said. “There is certainly a lot to go over. The garlic alone is going to present PR problems. But we do at least have a subject to present to the Reichsführer.”

“We have to arrest Hausser.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the vampire deterrent methods cited are real. Lithuanian peasants clearly have a surreal sense of humor and a healthy contempt for folklore researchers.
> 
> Himmler did apparently try to contact the ghost of Heinrich the Fowler for political advice. Yes. Yeah. This man was in charge of a paramilitary organisation. Terrifying isn't it?


End file.
